We're All Young Once

Deliriums of pleasure, doors

reeling open as we think of them

previous to touch

& music, like

lights upon the shoulder of

the listing arm

rocks from the pocket

largesse all across the bar

someone will look after &

unlock the car

that all

dark roads unwind before

in unwonted

confidences, shouting

how we'll, & we have

called her up at what she thought

almost too late into this night

so promised her a bottle

that we'll drink, her

enormity of tit, soft upper

white of arm, she is

really something

else, to cradle us

& drive us

DAVID BROMIGR

home at last

between the dark

or, this last time

the dark.

JUST THINK

Suppose this really were

happening to you

so that a screen

repeated every swollen move

a second after its enactment-

how would that feel,

reel upon reel

compelling as the notion of

your children growing older

when you stared at one just then,

that you're illuminated by

some mystery

almost infinitely

smaller than your self,

the square you

could never make it through

at the back of the theater.